13 Secrets Loki Laufeyson Will Never Tell
by georgiastark
Summary: A collection of secrets Loki has sworn to never tell.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any Marvel characters.**

 **It's been a while since I've written.**

 **I'm a little rusty.**

 **Also this idea was from an old story I wrote, so don't check those out because I was an awful writer than and I keep finding so many issues with those old stories. But i refuse to delete them.**

 **Also Trigger Warning, this does discuss harder topics and brushes on depression, suicidal thoughts and substance abuse. Please read with care.**

 **I love you all**

 **So thanks**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **1\. He loves Thor (like a brother, perves)**

He hated admitting it. He hates that he knew he loved his fake brother with all his heart. He hates that he knew if thor one day rejected him it would tear him limb from limb, and he would probably destroy a world.

No. He would defiantly destroy a world. Probably blow up Midgard and a few others. Possibly when thor's lady friend was there. not here.

But yes. He hated that he cares for his brother.

Fake brother.

He hated that he knew his fake brother cared for him deeply, and most of all, he hated that his brother was one of the only, if not the only, to truly be able to calm him down if he wanted to explode...himself and the worlds. And he hated that thor's idiocy made him smile and laugh, in happiness.

Oka, that was maybe because his brother

Fake brother,

was an idiot.

And he loved that big blonde idiot.

 **2\. He cares for the Avengers (mostly)**

It's not like he cares for them like his brother more just as distant friends he likes to see alive.

Unless he's the only trying to kill them, but that's just games (more on that later).

One time, he was at the Avengers Tower, because Thor insisted he stay and then threatened Stark that if he wasn't allowed to stay, he would blow up the tower. Stark let it slide, but he had to have those fucking magic dampeners on.

He was sitting on the couch with Steve, well after 2 am, both sitting and drinking Stark's private stash. Giggling and laughing like little girls until Stark walked in. Saw Steve (who was admittedly more drunk) and Loki (who had spiked his own drinks with Asgardian liquor) and was now for some reason holding back tears that he refused to cry because it had been too long since he had (exactly 506 years, 2 months and 5 days since he had last cried).

Stark grumbled, grabbed a drink and sat down with them, mumbling something along the lines of if they're going to drink themselves to death they might as well have invited him.

 **3\. He's a sucker for a manicure and getting his hands massaged (it's relaxing!)**

It's not that he's outrageously feminine (he doesn't lie, he is feminine. But not. Outrageously).

Just the act of paying to stop focusing on the big things and the small things and look down as someone massages your hands stretches them and coats nails in paint. It's so calming. And it helps him stay calm.

The mortal woman he got to do his hands is very nice, speaks very broken English, and is constantly blabbering how his hands were tense. He has also made it a mission to learn Thai, and show up one day and greet her in her mother tongue. And she is stupidly nice and kind to him. Her kindness rivels Frigga's. She asks where he gathered old scars from, and doesn't push if he doesn't want to talk, and instead will chatter about her son is doing at school.

Altogether, it's a distraction. But it's a good distraction.

And sometimes,

it helps him move a little more, freely.

 **4\. Books distract him from anxiety (crime novels he loves the most)**

He was always a book kid. He preferred to be inside reading and studying instead of outside rough and tumbling with Thor and his idiot friends.

He blamed Frigga slightly for this. For giving him a book when he was small and scared of the green sparks and mist that would seep from his hands during spurts of intense emotion. She would read to him how to master it, he soon read himself and taught himself more and more skills, more tricks and new spells, quickly succeeding Frigga and his elders. he had control of his magic. His magic didn't have control of him.

But alas, soon he bored of 'new' tricks that he had taught himself hundreds of years ago. He found Midgardian mortal novels were fascinating and captivating. He particularly grew fond of a series about war and dragons and a fuck load of wine (Game of Thrones). He was also extremely fond of mortal crime novels. Mortals had a fantastic style of their writing, he deeply enjoyed their twists and turns.

He enjoyed the characters and some of the strange, obscure words they used.

Mostly, he enjoyed figuring out the mystery of 'who-done-it' before it was actually revealed.

That made him feel good.

It also helped to be sitting in bed figuring out a mortals crime novel instead of rethinking trauma past and thinking of traumas future.

He also particularly blamed the novels for his lack of sleep and constantly sunken eyes.

 **5\. Obvious as it is, magic is an outlet, fighting with magic is his therapy**

Mental healing wasn't a massive thing in Asgard. Healing was for the body, not the mind. if you felt sad or anxious, it was go fight or practise your technique, or punch a punching bag until you hit the bag off, or tire so much you can't stand.

But there was only so much you could hit before you need something more. Loki used just practising magic as a way, but that doesn't always help, and sometimes he needs something more.

Something that also doesn't rub the skin of his knuckles off.

Thor would kill him if his knuckles were scabbed.

So instead he fought by blowing up things and using the knives. Sometimes he'd create things to fight and kill. Anything to cool him down.

Sometimes Thor would fight as well, allowing him to use magic, and kind of injure Thor a bit.

Loki never noticed the smile Thor gave off after sparring (and when Loki used magic and hurt his brother). Thor, as stupid as Loki claimed he was, noticed what helped his brother and would do exactly what he could to help.

 **6\. He doesn't like that people care (no one can. It's not allowed)**

He mostly knows Thor cares, and he wants his brother to care, but he also can't handle it. He doesn't like that fact the care could end, and he'd just rather they don't care at the beginning. It's easier. For him.

Plus, the second someone cares it means they like him as well, or want to be friends, and that sickens him.

People who get too close get hurt, because he doesn't need people, and prefers to just have himself. He likes being by himself anyway. Being alone was easier.

He noticed the mortal girl, Jamie, was beginning to care. He had no idea what to do. Her soft touches on his arms, the smiles, sitting in silence together, reading and studying forever. Laying in bed together, her hands running through his hair listening to music she put into playlists, or her teaching him to braid hair the mortal way, which he thought was shit and did her hair the Asgardian way instead.

She had begun to slip herself onto him, grabbing around him, soft touches on his hand and rubbing circles on his hand when he was destressed. In bad days, she would lay with him for hours, carefully running her hands through his hair.

He hated it.

But he couldn't stop it.

Loki didn't know how to stop it. He liked her so much. And she had become so important.

He guessed.

 **7\. Loki loves the beach**

The beaches in Asgard are plain, fucking shit. Everything about them sucks from the sand to animals in the ocean that seemed to sense his Frost Giant blood and attack him.

Midgardian beaches, on the other hand, were simply amazing.

The sand was so soft under his toes, and it was just perfect. He loved the sand, and how laying in it covered his dark hair with white dust.

He loved the waves and sitting on the shore, letting the waves break over him, the white foam covering his body before being pulled out again. He loved digging his hands into the soft sand, the wet sand and making small castles. He loved digging without realising and pulling more and more out until he hit the water.

Swimming out into the blue helped. Swimming past the breaks, to where the ocean waves were small lumps of water, and he could lay there on the top of the water and be lifted up and down.

Too many times he'd almost fallen asleep while relaxing.

It didn't occur to him until later that maybe the ocean helped him to cope.

 **8\. He hasn't cried in exactly 506 years, 4 months and 3 days (not that he's counting or anything)**

He wanted it to end.

Fuck.

He hated it. Ramming constant numbness into his head. And now he was stuck at Starks.

He just. Fucking hated it so much.

And feeling normal was too far away. Too far out of reach.

Loki pulled himself out of bed, walking the halls, staring blankly at the paintings that littered the walls.

He felt nothing. He wracked his brain to think of anything to feel something.

Drinking made him feel warm and nice.

Well mostly nice. Just a warm nice. Distraction nice. He loved it. He needed it at this time. But thoughts of last time, Thor screaming at him in anger. The fear of him dying from his brother.

But alas, he found himself in the living room, looking around the room. He'd seen Stark grab bottles from a cabinet before. So,

But it was locked.

But he _did_ have magic.

And magic could unlock cabinets. And cabinets held yummy, strong alochol. And no one was around to see him drink all of the yummy, strong alcohol.

It didn't occur to him that he could actually finish Tony's entire stash alone. He also didn't know what to do when he finished the entire stash, and still didn't feel drunk enough. He could still feel the numbness. He could still feel the anxiety. He could still feel all of it all. And he didn't want to feel it anymore. He needed to be drunker. He needed to be more wasted. He needed to fill himself with the drinks and hope he could drown all of his feelings in it.

Loki did feel drunk though. He wasn't going to lie. He felt drunk as fuck. But not drunk enough.

He also knew Thor had a small stash of good Asgardian liquor.

He found it. Drunk it. And felt the strong liquor wash over him. He felt the Asgardian liquor completely take his body. He smiled. Maybe it was working.

The warmth. Finally the warmth. The sweet. Final warmth.

He lay back on the couch, bottles scattered across the floor.

He felt good until the sadness came into his head. Normally he could push it away. Normally he could shove the tears down. But drunk? It was much harder to shove them down. Shove the tears down down down.

He didn't know what made him walk to Tony's room. He didn't know what made him knock on the door. He didn't know what made him punch the wall with his spare hand, breaking the wall under his fist.

He didn't know why Tony reached forward, taking a bottle from his hand, mumbling that he thinks he's hand enough. He didn't know why Tony gently grabbed his shoulder and moved him down to the ground slowly.

He had no idea why Tony handed him a tissue.

"Don't need it." He slurred. Tony shook his head, calmly dabbing the tissue on his face. Loki pulled away. He didn't. He wasn't.

He didn't understand why his checks started to feel wet, and warm. He didn't know why his vision had begun to blur. Tony got up and grabbed more tissues, pulling out and out and out, and quietly dabbing the fabrics against his face.

Loki freaked out. This didn't count, right? This can't count. There's no way it can count. It can not count. He's beyond drunk. It's drunk crying. It doesn't count. It can't count. He's drunk and tired and overwhelmed. It doesn't count.

506 years.

4 months

3 days.

It can't count.

506 years, 4 months, 3 days over drinking. Gone over drinking.

He felt the river turn into a flood.

"Doesn't count." He mumbled. He felt a sob choke up his throat. He held his breath, trying to keep the sob from shaking his body.

"Loki, breathe." Tony's leg was against his, an arm around his shoulder.

Loki let out the breathe, the sob coming shortly after it. And a second. The third took his entire body, beginning to shake.

Fuck. It counted. The years gone.

Back to zero.

 **9\. Loki loves cats. A lot**

Loki often visited animal shelters and spent hours with the kittens and cats. The full-time workers found it strange how most of the skittish cats and kittens when straight to him and would cuddle up against him.

By his tenth visit, the grey kitten and the black kitten (named Sam and Kilo) barely left his side. They would run up, meowing up to him. He grinned, picking up the two small cats, giving them soft kisses on their soft small heads.

"They won't let anyone else touch them." One of the ladies had told him as the two kittens slept calmly on his legs. She explained to him that many families had tried to adopt them, and the kittens would bite and scratch everyone.

Then she suggested he adopt the two.

Which he jumped at.

He took those kittens home

He loved those two, how they would lay on him on the bad days, play and make the cold God smile.

Loki really truly loved cats.

Be he loved his the most.

 **10\. He honestly truly believes he needs a hug. Be he doesn't know who from (but he needs it)**

It's been years since he last really gave into a hug. he had avoided it so much and felt trapped. So trapped.

Thor avoided hugging his brother. Last time he did, Loki snapped and tried to kill him, screaming at the top of his lungs.

It was the one time Thor was truly scared of his brother.

Loki did want a hug from Thor. He also wanted a hug from an image in his head that wasn't sure if the hugger existed or not. He hopes they do because the hugger was super good and amazing. And he hoped that hugger wouldn't leave him when he found them.

He was also starting to think that maybe he needed more kittens because cats were the best cuddlers. And he could hug them and they wouldn't wrap their arms aronud him and hug him back. It was perfect.

 **11\. There's a witch girl from Midgard who forces him to dance to 'Come on Eileen' and it totally doesn't make him feel happy or laugh**

Watching Jamie nod her head to music was cute. She was zoned out, smiling and natural.

What he didn't expect was for her to start blasting music and dancing in front of him, moving her arms up and down to the beat, her hips moving side to side. She spun around, her hair whipping around her in a wave. She placed her hands on her body, doing sharp moves side to side. She spun around with her hands out, stopping and holding her hand out for him to take,

He didn't move, pretending the book was more interesting than her. But he couldn't stop the smile.

It didn't stop her, grinning, reaching out and wrapping her hand around his wrist. She didn't move as the music stopped. Paused. He looked down again at the book.

But the music started up again. He could see out of the corner of his eyes her stupid grin growing across her face.

She pulled him up, causing his book to tumble to the floor. She moved his arms around, up and down, side to side. She was screaming along to the words, grinning stupidly happily.

He couldn't help but start to dance with her moving her, spinning her around and around. Grabbing her arm, and spinning her out, and back in and back out again. He twirled her around and around, her hair flying out around her like a fan.

Loki sucked at dancing and followed her moves. But when the music slowed he pulled her in close, turning to the beat. Giving her a small kiss on the top of her head. He begun turning around, faster and faster. As the tempo quickened and quickened until they held each other at arms length, running around in a circle.

He totally wasn't smiling. Or laughing.

He was so happy.

He felt so safe.

He pulled her in on the last beat, seeing her happy.

He felt so happy (so he kissed her).

 **12\. Obvious (again) but tricking, joking and playing with people made him feel happier (particulary fucking with Tony. Throwing him through buildings was oh so satisfying)**

Loki Laufeyson was having a particularly awful day. He hadn't slept too well the night before, and the night consisted of him drinking alone with his cats (now 5) and watching random reality TV shows, and lastly falling sleep with an hour before Thor came knocking. Which then resulted in Thor yelling at him that he needs to stop drinking (Loki knew he meant for the best, but he didn't want to listen) and (accidentally) hitting one of Loki's cat's tails in his anger.

Loki kind of lost his shit then. Throwing his brother out a window, causing the rest of the Avenger to come flying.

It was a bad day, to say the least.

Normally, he would cuddle and pat his cats on these days, or call Jamie from her work (she was away with Strange on some bullshit training program and hadn't been back to dance with him for a month). So, seeing as his plan A and B were both demolished, he had no choice but to fight the Avengers.

He didn't lie. Throwing around the Avengers was fun. he had no idea why it did help him, but see the frustration on their faces as he pretended he somewhere, when he wasn't. Creating illusions showing Cap was somewhere causing them to panic when Cap really was somewhere else. It was all fun.

But he most loved grabbing Tony Stark and throwing at any tree or building and seeing his red body grow smaller and smaller.

And finally hit the building with a nice crash and gleam.

He really. Really.

 _Really,_

loved it.

And it really. Really. _Really_ helped.

 **13\. He's a tad depressed (only a tad. he swears only a tad)**

Loki swears the constant numbness everyone felt. The laying awake at night, staring into the darkness was completely 100% normal. For everyone. The anxiety build up was normal. The need for being constantly alone, and also with people, to talk and not talk was normal. He was angry so much, and he threw things across the room when he was alone, sometimes screaming at the wall until his voice hurt (he didn't know why but it helped). The guilt he felt constantly. He had completely ruined so much. He hurt Thor, he ruined Thor. He hurt everyone he touched. He hurt so many people.

He was a monster

He knew it was normal, that's why he looked it up online and it came up with 'depression'.

"Guilt, anxiety, numbness, irritable-" He was angry yes, but that, that was his dads fault. He only knew how to outlet emotion with anger. And he guessed he was tired all the time, and he didn't sleep much anymore, and he no longer cared for food as much. But he couldn't be depressed.

He's a God. He can't be depressed. He can't have stuff wrong with his feelings and his mind.

He's a fucking God. He just. Just can't be that.

But he kept reading. And he noticed more things he did. But he was convinced. He didn't believe it. Mortal nonsense.

He didn't believe it until he was at the top of a building looking down and his head screamed jump. And he couldn't get it out of his head. The jump wouldn't leave.

Maybe he was depressed.

No. He definitely was depressed.

But only a tad.


End file.
